


Outliving the Day

by hardboiledbaby



Category: Nero Wolfe - Rex Stout
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-31
Updated: 2010-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-14 06:55:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/146595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hardboiledbaby/pseuds/hardboiledbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Archie muses on the passing of another year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Outliving the Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [speakmefair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/speakmefair/gifts).



11:57 pm, December 31st. New Year's Eve.

Another year almost gone, all over but for the last gasp, the final stroke of midnight. Then another year begins anew.

 _What year?_

It took me a second to remember. They've started to blur at the edges, smoothly flowing into each other with barely a ripple to mark their passing.

They've been good years, for the most part. Granted, I got shot at more than once; even took a bullet, a long time ago. Took my share of punches too, although I was always sure to return the favor—never let it be said that Alma Goodwin didn't teach her boy that it is more blessed to give than to receive. Not to mention, I was a guest of the city's finest so often, I should've left a change of clothes and a spare toothbrush down at The Tombs. Nothing ever stuck, of course, just cooled my heels there. A lot.

Where was I going with this? Oh, yeah.

But they really have been good years. Since I moved to New York, the brownstone has been my home; the people in it, my family. All things considered, a man couldn't ask for better.

"Archie." Wolfe left his chair and walked around the end of his desk to stand next to mine. I got to my feet as well.

"Sir." We shook hands as the clock struck 12. "So, once more unto the breach?"

"From this day to the ending of the world, Archie."

No, I couldn't ask for better.

 

Would I were with him, wheresome'er he is, either in heaven or in hell.  
— _Henry V_ , W. Shakespeare


End file.
